By Daydreamer
Daydream59@aol.com
 

Rating: G
Date: Thu, 12 Nov 1998
Category: VH - UST
Spoilers: None
Archive: Yes, please.
Feedback: Yes! Please!

Disclaimer: Mulder and Scully are owned by Chris Carter,
1013 Productions, Fox Television Network, etc. They are wonderfully
brought to life by David Duchovny and Gillian Anderson. I will make
no profit from this, and neither will Fox if they sue me, for I am poor and
have nothing material they can profit from.

Comments: Thanks to Mikki for the concept and permission to pursue
it, and to Vickie, for encouragement and support.

Summary: Mulder needs shoes that can withstand the punishments
of his job.

Shoes 01/01

The man was standing in front of the dress shoes, just staring, as if
overwhelmed by all the options. He was older than she was,
at least 15 years older, which put him probably in his mid-thirties,
but he was still cute, and she was glad she got to him first.

"Can I help you?" the clerk asked. He jumped when she spoke, then
turned to look down at her. He had really pretty hazel eyes, a sort
of grayish-green, and long lashes. His hair flopped over his forehead
and she had to restrain herself from reaching up to push it off his
face. He seemed lost, as his eyes darted from her, to the door, to
the shoes, and back to her again.

"Um, I'm waiting for Scu - that is, my ..." he paused and trailed off,
his eyes moving to the entry of the store. "She said she'd meet me here."

"Well, perhaps I can help you get started until your -- wife? -- gets
here?" she tried again.

He seemed nervous and he slowly pulled his lower lip into his mouth,
sucking gently, as he stared at the door. "She's not my wife," he
said absently, then repeated, "She said she'd meet me here."

'OK, older but cute,' the clerk thought. 'Involved, but not married.' She
spoke again, recapturing his wandering attention. "What kind of shoe
are you looking for?"

"Well," he looked longingly at the door for a protracted minute, then
sighed, and said, "I need new dress shoes, something I can wear to
work." He vaguely waved down at himself and she took in the Armani
suit, the leather belt, the tailored shirt, the ugly, but obviously expensive,
silk tie.

She led him into the more expensive section of the store, and he
followed, but reluctantly. He didn't seem to want to get out of
sight of the door. She surreptitiously eyed his expensive dress
again, then lifted a pair of $700.00 Italian leather loafers. "How
about these?" she asked.

He looked at the shoes, never flinching at the price tag, and reached
out to take one. He turned it over, looking at the sole. "No, thank
you, these won't work," he said. "I can't run in shoes like this."
He handed the shoe back.

"Run?" She was confused now. This was weird. The suit, the tie.
She looked down. Yep, standard, well, expensive, but standard
dress shoes. His wardrobe screamed 'office job.' "Why do you need
to run in your dress shoes?"

"Well, I always end up chasing people. You know, murderers,
robbers, that kind of stuff." He paused, looked again toward
the front of the store. "And things," he added. "Sometimes
we have to chase things. Beast women, flukemen, mutants.
It's hard on the joints in dress shoes, so I need something with
more support. That's why Scully was going to meet me. She's
a doctor." His eyes were again on the front of the store.

He offered this information as if it explained everything. This
was getting weirder by the minute. Who was this guy? Mutants?
Flukemen? Beast women? Maybe he was playing with her. She
nodded as if she understood, then led him to a section of less
expensive shoes. Cute, but weird, and there went her big commission.

She lifted a shoe designed to look like a dress shoe, but fit like
an athletic shoe. "What do you think of this one?" she asked.

He took the shoe, holding it absently in his hand. "Do you think
she's OK?" he asked. "She's hardly ever late."

She started to laugh, then looked at him and realized he was
serious. "Probably just traffic," she offered, and he nodded
gravely. "Now, how about this shoe?"

He fidgeted, moving the shoe from hand to hand, then focused
intently on it. He looked inside, studying the arch support,
nodding approvingly. Then he turned the shoe over, frowned,
and shook his head. "No, this won't work either. The bottom
is too thin. One misstep into the green goo, and poof! it would
melt."

She looked up at him. OK, he was nuts. Obviously, this woman
he was so anxious over was his keeper. She smiled, what she
hoped was a reassuring smile. Always keep them calm. "Yeah,
well, that green goo is always hard on shoes. No wonder you need
new ones." She was proud of herself. She'd managed to keep
a straight face as she'd said that.

He gave her a disgusted look. "I didn't get it on my shoes,"
he said. "I know enough not to step in it. It did eat Scully's
new shoes, though." He looked again at the front, then
added, "That's part of how we found out it was so dangerous.

"I got liver bile on mine. Now that's hard on shoes too." He
looked down at the one in his hand. "I wonder where she is,"
he mumbled. He handed her the shoe. "Probably just traffic,
like you said."

"Liver bile." Yep, definitely nuts. She looked at him nodding
at her. He acted as if he was proud of her for understanding.
Hmmm. Maybe I should go get someone. The clerk looked up
appraisingly at him. Well, so far he seemed harmless enough,
and he did say this woman -- a doctor -- was coming for him.

Her ruminations were interrupted when he asked, "What else do
you have?"

The clerk looked around, then lifted another pair of the athletic
style dress shoes. "The soles on these seem a bit thicker," she
said as she offered one to him.

"Yeah, it is thicker." He studied the shoe. "It's nice, but," he
handed it back to her dismissively, "it's suede."

"Suede. That's not good?" This was really getting stranger by the
minute. "Does the green goo eat suede too?"

The man looked at her as if she'd lost her mind. "It would never
be deep enough to get on the suede part." He shook his head
in disgust and gave her a 'don't you know anything?' look.

"Oh. Of course not. Sorry." She coughed slightly, then *she* turned
and looked longingly at the front of the store. Hopefully it was just
traffic, and his friend would show up soon and rescue her. She
sighed and looked up at him again. Such a shame. So cute, and
totally nuts. She struggled to get back on the subject. Oh, yes,
suede. "And suede is a problem because . . .?"

"Because of the water, of course."

"The water. Of course."

"When I have to get into the sewer, or if I get trapped in a
bathroom when the sprinkler goes off. Or chasing alligators.
When the boat sinks and it turns out to be an alligator eating
all the frogs."

"Oh, yeah. Right. That would be tough." She looked toward
the front again. "On the shoes and the frogs."

"Yeah," he agreed, chuckling. "Wasn't too good for small dogs
either." He sighed. "And water-spots never come out." His eyes
scanned the displays. "How about something with some ankle
support, too? You know, for climbing?"

"You climb?" This was just so sad. Her roommate was never
gonna believe this one. When his friend, or whatever she was
got here, she was inclined to give her a piece of her mind for even
letting him out alone. It was obvious he needed round the clock
supervision. "When you're chasing mutants?" Keep him calm,
keep him talking.

"No, no, no." The disgusted look was back. "Telephone poles.
You know, to take the signal scramblers out that the government
puts in to control people. I'm color-blind, so it doesn't affect me."

*You wish.* Oh, well, I knew it. There was no way I was gonna
get away from him without hearing about the government's mind
control. I just knew it was coming. "Signal scramblers. Telephone
poles. Well, the rest of us are mighty lucky we have you looking
out for us."

He was staring at the front of the store again, but at her comment
he turned quickly, searching her face for any sign of mockery.
She kept her expression encouraging, with just a hint of
grateful, and finally he nodded, as if accepting her thanks.

"Trees, too," he said. "Scully climbed up to look at the man in
the cocoon, but we were dressed for it then." He glanced over
at the hiking boots. "Good shoes. And we were prepared
that time. But when I had to climb the tree, I wasn't prepared."
He looked sad at the memory, then added, "And the mud from
the root system, when it attacked me? That was impossible
to get off those shoes. I had to throw them out." He brightened
slightly. "But the boy was OK."

"Well, that's good. I'm glad the boy was OK." She handed him a
shoe cut like an athletic high-top, but still in leather, with a dress
like appearance. It was functional, and seemed to be what he
wanted, but it had to be the ugliest shoe in the store. Of course,
he seemed to like this one, taking it eagerly and examining it.
"And trains," he commented absently, as he looked at the shoe.

Whoops! Blind-sided. Wasn't expecting that one. "Excuse me?"

He looked up from his appraisal of the shoe and said, "Trains. I
climb trains." He glanced up front quickly, shook his head, then
added, "Well, I don't really climb them. I jump onto them. And
climb down into them. They move the aliens on trains, you know.
And they stored the bodies in a buried boxcar."

Well, my day is complete now. Mutants, sewers, government
mind control, and aliens. I can die happy. And he is such a
gorgeous man too. She looked hopefully towards the front
and when no one appeared, she turned back to find him staring
at her. Let me see, where was I? Oh yeah, aliens in boxcars.
"Well, it makes sense doesn't it? Where would you store the
bodies?"

He looked thoughtful, doing the lip thing again. He doesn't
even realize how sexy he looks when he does that. Then he
said, "I really hadn't thought about it like that. Maybe you're
right." He smiled at her, and despite knowing he was nuts,
she felt her heart flutter. Gorgeous. Drop-dead gorgeous.
Such a shame. "Can I try these on?"

She smiled back. "Certainly. What size?"

"Let's try a 13," he said. "And can I go back up front now?
Please? I don't want her to think I'm not here."

"Of course. You go up front and take a seat, and I'll bring
the shoes." He smiled again, dazzling her, then headed up
front.

She went in the back, found the shoes in the right size,
and walked slowly back out to the front. Hopefully his
friend will be here. And I am definitely going to talk
to her about letting him out alone. Someone's gonna
take advantage of him, or hurt him. Even if he is nuts,
he's sweet about it, and he seems so serious. It would
be such a shame if people started making fun of him.

"Here you go. Size 13. Do you want me to help?"

He reached up and took the box, then shook his head
in answer to her query. He began to take off his shoes,
saying, "You just have to have good shoes. When the
invisible alien insect things were taking people over,
and they put me in the mental hospital, they took away
my shoes."

Bingo! I knew it, I knew it, I knew it! He did say his
friend was a doctor, and he knows she's gonna take him
back. Well, now that that's settled, I am definitely going
to give her a piece of my mind. Imagine! A doctor
letting a patient this delusional walk around loose. She
ought to have her license revoked!

He was pulling on the new shoes now, and he looked up at her
as he began to lace them. "Really makes you know how
important good shoes are when you don't have any."

She nodded seriously in agreement -- keep him happy -- then
asked carefully, "How do those feel?"

"Hmmm, pretty good actually." He stopped a moment
and stared at the entrance to the store, and she found
herself staring with him. Where the hell was she?

"When was she supposed to meet you?"

"Mmm? Oh, uh, at three." He looked at his watch. "She's
really late. It's quarter to four now." He looked up, his
eyebrows furrowed in concern.

She looked at her own watch. "No, it's not. It's only quarter
to three." She gazed at him sadly. Someone really needed to
be taking better care of him. They didn't even remind him to
set his watch back when the clocks changed. "The time
changed last night."

He gazed quizzically at her. "Really? Wonder how I missed
that," he mused.

"Maybe there's a signal scrambler in your watch," she teased.
She knew she shouldn't, but she just couldn't resist this once.
She immediately felt guilty when his eyes flew open wide, and
he gazed in horror at the watch on his arm. "Do you really
think so?" He was unbuckling the watch even as he spoke.
He laid it aside and muttered, "We'll just see what happens
now."

She tried to persuade him to put the watch back on, but he
would have nothing to do with it now and her guilt increased
when she realized it was a really expensive watch, and he
had no intention of ever putting it back on his wrist. Finally
she gave up and asked, "Do you want to walk in those, to
see how they feel?"

"Well, I'm not exactly worried about walking. They feel OK."
He rose and began to pace, his eyes drifting from the doorway
to the banished watch. "I think they're all right, but I need
to know if I can get to my gun."

The smile on her face froze, and her eyes widened. She gulped,
hard, and then asked, "Your gun?" Oh please, let this be another
delusion. I am nuts for trying to wait on him. I should've gone
for help the minute I realized he was crazy. She was looking at the
entry, praying to see his friend appear, when he suddenly dropped
down, rolled forward and began scrambling at his ankle.

She had jerked her eyes back to him, and opened her mouth to
scream, when a new voice called, "Mulder! Just what the hell
do you think you're doing?"

The man froze, then sheepishly pulled his hand back and
clambered to his feet. "Hey, Scully," he said. He stuffed his
hands in his pockets, looking for all the world like a little
boy caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

The new voice belonged to a tiny woman, a little over
five feet tall, with red hair and blue eyes. But despite her
small stature, she certainly seemed able to control the
tall man before her. The clerk swallowed again, and
felt herself begin to relax. Obviously, this was the doctor-
friend, and she must understand his delusions. It
probably wasn't even a real gun.

"Mulder, tell me you were *not* going for your gun. In a
public store. Without provocation."

"Ah, Scullee," he whined, "I like these shoes, and I needed
to see if I could get to the ankle holster."

The clerk's eyebrows shot up and she looked again at his ankle.
Maybe he really did have a gun. She shrugged. Whatever.
This woman seemed to have him completely in hand.

"And you are not getting those shoes, Mulder," the woman
continued. "Those are without a doubt the ugliest shoes
I have ever seen. Your ties I will tolerate, but not those
shoes. Take them off and put your old shoes on."

The man sat and obediently began to change his shoes.

Now she felt bad because he seemed to be in trouble
with his friend, and aside from that last little scare, he
really hadn't been that much of a problem. "Well, uh, ma'am,"
the clerk spoke hesitantly, "I pointed them out to him."

The man shot her a grateful glance, and the woman looked
at her with irritation. Then she shook her head and said, "It's
not your fault. He knew he was supposed to wait for me."
She turned to look at the man again. "Mulder, why didn't
you wait for me?" She looked around and saw his watch
sitting several chairs away from him. "And why aren't
you wearing your watch?"

"Well, the time changed, Scully, and mine didn't. She
thought" -- he nodded at the clerk and dropped his voice
conspiratorially -- "it might be signal scramblers."

The woman turned and glared at the clerk, and all thought
of giving her a piece of her mind flew out the window. For some
reason, she was firmly convinced *no one* gave this woman
any trouble at all.

"I - I'm sorry," the clerk stammered. "It was a joke. I told him
it was a joke but he didn't believe me."

The man looked disappointed. "I thought you understood how
serious things are," he muttered.

"Mulder, let's get out of here, OK?" the woman said. The man finished
changing shoes, then rose and offered her his hand. She scooped up
his watch, gave a last annoyed glance at the clerk, then took the man's
hand, and said, "What on earth did you tell her to make her say there
were signal scramblers in your watch?"

"Well, I told her I was looking for shoes I could run in, and she asked
me why I needed to run. So I told her about Tooms, and the Jersey
Devil, and a few others."

"Honestly, Mulder!" the woman exclaimed. They were moving toward the
front of the store, their voices growing faint. "Why would you tell her
that?"

"I really do need shoes I can run in, Scully. And then I thought, maybe
they would have something that the goo wouldn't eat."

"You told her about the goo? Mulder, you're lucky she didn't call
and try to have you committed." The woman laughed and the clerk
could see the man visibly relax. He dropped her hand and draped
his arm companionably across her shoulder.

The clerk moved towards the store entrance, fascinated. The man
nodded his head earnestly, then added, "And about the flukeman."
Incredible! The woman acted as if the man was serious. Maybe
they were both delusional. Or maybe the woman just had a really
good grip on the man's world view.

The woman was laughing again, and the man leaned down and
whispered something in her ear, causing her to laugh even harder.
The clerk stepped out into the mall, watching as they walked away.

Cute, but very, very weird. Nope. No way. My roommate is never
going to believe this one!

End